Page 22 of Until Him

“You’re still sick, that’s why,” I say, and he rolls away from me with a groan.

“Go away,” he says, but I don’t listen. I stand up and move toward his bathroom.

I can feel his eyes on me as I disappear inside, and they’re still on me when I return with a wet washrag in my hand. I press it against his skin, and he lets out a contented sigh. Dude is trying to act all tough when he really just wants someone to take care of him.

“Feels good, huh?” I say and then continue pressing it against his overheated face.

“Mmm.”

A cough bursts from his mouth, and I reach over for the glass of water and help him drink.

“Do you have anyone you want me to call? Family?” I ask because I always want my mom when I’m sick. It doesn’t matter that I’ve technically outgrown it, there’s just something about her presence that makes it all better.

“You make it sound like I’m dying.”

I sweep a strand of hair from his forehead and shake my head. “I just meant that maybe you want your mom here or something. Maybe someone related to you, dunno. Someone other than me.”

He glances away, and he covers up the bottom half of his face with the blanket.

“Don’t have family,” he says, his words mumbled beneath the fabric.

“Oh.”

His eyes flash to mine, and then the blanket moves to cover his entire face. I stare down at him and then tug the blanket away. His eyes are closed, but when I stare long enough, they finally pop open.

“Jesus. You still here?”

“Yep. You’re stuck with me for now.”

He blinks up at me.

“Am I hallucinating? Is this a fever dream?” he asks.

“No,” I say, pressing the cool washrag to his cheeks again, and his eyelids flutter shut once more.

“You’re being too nice. I hate it.”

“Nah, Theo. You love it. Being taken care of.”

“Argh. Stop it. Stop being so nice and….and hot.” My lips tilt up at his admission and he sighs. “TheLogan Lewis showed up at my door. How the fuck did that even happen? How is this my life?”

Ah, so the fucker did know who I was. He just pretended like he didn’t know when we first met.

Asshole.

“You suck my dick so good,” he mutters, and my cock twitches in my pants.

Hell.

He turns over on his other side, tucks his legs into his chest, and drifts off to sleep once more.

I let my fingers trail over his side before pulling them away. I can’t start getting ideas like this means something. I’m sure as soon as he wakes up from his delirium, he will be just as prickly and closed off.

Yeah, I really need to take my mind off it.

Maybe I should clean up or something. His apartment is pretty small, but it’s never a bad thing to tidy up a bit. I move around his space, wiping down counters and sweeping up the floor. I even clean out Curie’s litter box.

She takes a dump right after too, actually making eye contact with me as she pushes a log out.

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